Girl Talk Part 2
by Gary Merchant
Summary: In a direct follow on from Girl Talk, Bernice joins Charley and Grace for a chat about their favourite Time Lord.


GIRL TALK – PART 2

"Is this a private party, or can anyone join in?"

The two women stared open mouthed at the newcomer. She was dressed in a safari jacket, white shirt and long shorts, with her long dark hair scraped back in a ponytail. She seemed harmless enough, but the two friends were preparing to make their excuses, just in case. "Well, we were just…"

"Great!" She grabbed a chair from an adjoining table and sat down between the two of them, while at the same time catching the eye of a hovering waiter. "Whatever these two are having, thanks." She smiled. "I just love these girly chats, don't you?"

They sank back onto their chairs. It seemed there was no escape from this person, whoever she was. Perhaps it was better to humour her – for a short time, at least.

She noted their confused stares as a feeling of dread crept over her. "Oh Goddess, I haven't got it wrong, have I? This is San Francisco. And it did say in the advert about the Doctor and the TARDIS."

The younger woman turned to her friend, and it was as though a weight had been lifted from them both. "She knows him, Grace."

The older woman nodded. "It pretty much looks that way, Charley."

She looked from one to the other. "You weren't expecting me then?"

"Well, when I placed the advert," Charley explained, "it was only intended for Grace."

"Oh, right." The newcomer suddenly felt very foolish. "Well, sorry for crashing in unannounced. I'll umm… leave you both to it." She shouldered her knapsack and made to leave with as much dignity as she could muster.

"Hey, don't be a party pooper," Grace said. "The more the merrier, right Charley?"

"Absolutely," Charley agreed. "Please stay."

The newcomer smiled gratefully. "Thanks. I'm Bernice Summerfield. Pleased to meet you both." They shook hands. " Well, Professor, actually."

"Really." Grace was intrigued. "Professor of what, or shouldn't I ask?"

"Oh, archaeology, mostly. Though I can turn my hand to most things."

"Sounds a bit like the Doctor," said Charley, introducing herself. "Charlotte Pollard. And this is Grace Holloway," she added, completing the introductions.

"Oh yes, I've heard about you," Bernice told her. "You're the one who nearly killed the Doctor on the operating table."

"Oh." Any doubts that she knew the Doctor were quickly dispelled. "You heard about that."

"He told me," Bernice answered. "And I could still see the scar." There was an embarrassed silence from Charley and Grace, which was only broken when the waiter returned with a fresh pot of tea and a cup and saucer. Bernice poured for the three of them, then took a sip. "Hmm, not bad. Though I usually add a little something to it."

Charley and Grace exchanged a look. This Bernice Summerfield was quite a character. "So," Grace broached the subject. "You know the Doctor… intimately?"

"Oh, we go way back," Bernice replied. "What does he look like at the moment?"

"Look like?" Charley seemed unsure how to answer this. "Well, he…"

Grace noted her friends' hesitancy, and turned the question around. "How do you remember him, Bernice?"

"Oh Benny, please," she insisted. "Well, last time I saw him he was tall and handsome, long hair, and wearing a dark green frock coat. Before that, he was shorter, with a panama hat and spoke in a Scottish accent."

Grace nodded. "Yup, that sounds like the Doctor – both of him."

"You mean regeneration?" Charley asked. "The Doctor told me about it, but I've never seen it happen."

"It's probably best if you do," Grace suggested. "When I first met the new Doctor, it took me a while to realise he was the same guy I'd operated on the night before." She had already gone through explaining those events to Charley, and Bernice's directness had saved Grace explaining the whole thing again. "So, how do you know the Doctor, Benny?"

Bernice sat back in her chair, thinking back over the years. "Well, I was on an archaeological dig when I met him," she began. "He was travelling with Ace at the time, and things got a bit complicated between them. I decided to throw in my lot with him, just to keep an eye on him."

"And what about this Ace person?" Charley asked. "What happened to her?"

"Ah. Long story. Too complicated," Bernice said. "Anyway, I travelled with him in that TARDIS of his for quite a while, till I decided to strike out on my own. The last time I saw him was in London, when the Ice Warriors paid us a visit."

"Hey, I heard about that," Grace remembered. "That story hit the news channels worldwide."

Bernice nodded. "There were a few hairy moments, I don't mind admitting. And he'd regenerated by then, so it was like meeting someone new for the first time. But that's the funny thing," she added. "He looked totally different, but underneath he was still the same person, God love him."

"I know what you mean," Grace said. "Both of them had that intensity about them, even though I only saw the previous one for a few moments."

"Well, one of him's quite enough for me to worry about," Charley noted. The three of them laughed at that, and sipped at their tea, each of them lost in their own thoughts.

After a moment, Bernice put down her cup and fished around in her knapsack. "Anyone fancy something a bit stronger?" she asked, producing a bottle of Brandy.

From his vantage point across the road inside The Olde Tea Shoppe, the Doctor at last relaxed. For a brief moment he'd thought there might have been some raised voices at least, but any likely conflict seemed to have been smoothed over. And the proffered bottle of Brandy would break the ice in more ways than one. "Time I made a quiet exit," the Doctor decided.

All in all, the day had gone better than expected. Three women from different time periods, who had been total strangers just a few hours before, would end the day as friends. He paid his bill and prepared to leave via a side door.

Then someone caught his eye. Someone he hadn't expected to ever see again. They had first met during one of the Doctor's many attempts to take a holiday. Although many years had passed, the figure was unmistakeable; a little older, and perhaps a bit shabbier. And still in the same line of work, the Doctor noted.

After a moments' hesitation, he stepped forward and deposited himself in an empty chair next to the figure from his past. The man turned, about to remonstrate with him, but the Doctor spoke first.

"Hello, Duggan. Who are you following this time?"


End file.
